


Undoable

by The_Curious_Wonderer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, Sadstuck, Until it isn't, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Curious_Wonderer/pseuds/The_Curious_Wonderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and maybe if you looked a bit more like her, he would like you better. Or maybe you just needed to be yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undoable

**Author's Note:**

> * Not an update, sorry, just fixing all the little mistakes I've made.

You stare in the mirror and think about differences.

She is perfection. Then you turn to your reflection.

An immediate grimace crosses your face- you are short. It's almost stupid how short you are. You are small and diminutive, but a grin slides across your face as you think of the muscles your small figure disguises. But it fades just as quickly when you think of her, with her tall, graceful elegance, because for all you your agility you have no grace or poise, not like she does. You quickly switch your gaze.

Straight to your hands. They are so... Rough, you guess. Her hands are always nice, with soft skin and a pretty manicure. They are small and almost dainty. Yours are dry. The nails are torn and jagged, with dirt clinging to the edges of the undersides. They are ugly and dirty, with years of hard work showing through.

Your eyes go from your hands to your chest. Honestly, you wish sometimes that you could be a normal troll, who doesn't live in a cave or hunt for every meal. It would mean that you could unbind your chest, because really, boobs are not the greatest asset when you are hunting. Your unbound chest is, well, average. You are not curvy in any way, but the bumps are definitely there. But she- well, lets just say that she is much more endowed.

Again your eyes flip, this time landing on your face. You are so different, you think, glancing at your thin lips and thin nose. Your eyes are wide, an almost feral light gleaming in them as you think of your worst enemies beautiful full lips and her aquiline nose. Her eyes that are pretty, a greyish teal, that looks almost like water in the ocean. Yours are that ugly shade between grey and green that you utterly despise.

And finally you shift to hair. Hers is short, cut to her chin, sleek and shiny and stylish and sharp. It defines her so well, accenting her features and framing her face. Yours is a force to be reckoned with. It's grown almost to the small of your back, huge waves of tangles that you eventually gave up on because you hair was just so drafted thick and impossible. It's bushy and frizzy and it curls around your face like you are a lion, fierce and angry.

And this is where the tears start. In the color of your blood, your eyes, the sign on your shirt, dirty olive streams its way down your face, because out of all these differences between the two of you, the biggest one is that she, Terezi Pyrope, has the attention of one Karkat Vantas.

She was- no, she still IS- your best friend and your worst enemy, but you can't help but want to be like her, want to be her, because even if she doesn't realize it, he's wrapped around her little finger. And suddenly, with the awful clarity of hopeless ideas, you think that maybe if you looked like her, sleek and stylish, you might just get his attention.

And so you grab the nearest sharpest thing, coming up luckily with scissors, and start quietly chopping off one lock at a time, and for a while you are happy, envisioning what he will do when he sees the new you. Finally you finish and you look up excited, ready to see this girl who is you but better, with that lovely hair floating around her face when you gasp in horror.

You look up expecting perfection, but all you receive is a shoddy, uneven job, done by hands that have no experience. Your hair is a mess, a disgrace, it's disgusting, and finally you can't help it and just start sobbing because you- this- life is hopeless and pointless and you kind of just wish real life wasn't real. You scream out into the night sky and you don't care that anybody might hear, you just wish you could find out what you were doing wrong, why he didn't like you, why he barely even gave you the time of day and devoted all of himself to that heartless shrew who knows you like him.

But eventually the tears dissipate and you stand up tall in front of the mirror.

"I will do this." You promise yourself. "Even if it takes the world, I will do this. I can prove to him that I'm worth the time of day, and then a decent conversation, and then maybe even being matesprits. I don't care what it takes, I will do this."

And you finger one lock of messy, brutally short cut hair, an undoable reminder that you will get him or die trying. You start actively socializing, and eventually, work up the nerve to have a conversation. You notice that he spends less time talking to Terezi and more time with you (and then you really can't feel angry at her anymore. Seriously, its not like you don't understand why she liked him) and then one day, you're hanging out, having fun, and you accidentally slip up- you say you're flushed for him. It's awkward for a minute when neither of you say anything, and then he says that he feels the same and your heart is flying and you couldn't possibly be happier and you twist that one lock of your hair again, as if to send something back to yourself in the past as comfort, and you realize that your hair is now way past your shoulders, and you remember that your promise is finally fulfilled.

Then he grabs your attention with a kiss and you really don't want to think about anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo.... Yeah. This is my first fanfic to be published here, and I really hope you guys like it. Please leave a comment, or a kudos, or anything, really. Thanks!


End file.
